The Hitman's Last Job(24)

“Hey,” Anna held his hand to soothe him. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Just stressed out. Just feel like I’m goin’ crazy,”
“I get it. I feel the same,”
“Of course you do. But I can’t help shake the feeling that we stand out. That people are noticing us,”
“Well I think that crazy crackhead over there is watchin’ us for sure,” she signalled with her eyes and Carl turned round.


His gaze was immediately met by the wide eyed insanity of a matchstick thin man in leathers.

“Shit. He looks…. Interesting,” Carl grimaced.


Anna looked to the man and saw him scratch wildly at his hands before muttering to himself and drinking a mug of coffee in one go.

“He’s freakin’ wired,”
“Poor guy,”
“Yeah. Some folk get all the luck,” Anna thought about how things could always be worse. “Well at least we’ve always got our health,” she held Carl’s hand.


The waitress strode over with the pancakes and winked at Carl before she left. Anna was instantly infuriated but did nothing. Instead she chewed on the cuff of her coat and began chopping up her pancakes into little pieces with her fork.

“You eat like a child,” Carl laughed.
“I wish I still was a child, kinda,” she mumbled into her plate.


Carl opened his mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by a figure passing by the table. He looked up to see the poor, crack addicted man walk slowly past the table while making intense eye contact. He then twitched maniacally and started to scratch at the inside of his arm like a wild animal. Then as mysteriously as he disappeared he left. The couple watched him exit the diner furtively.

“That was…. Weird,” mumbled Anna with a mouthful of pancakes.


Carl had an uneasy feeling he couldn’t articulate. There was something about the guy he didn’t like. Something he just couldn’t trust.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost baby, what’s up?” Anna asked him worriedly.
“I just really don’t like the look of that guy,”


They both looked out the window to see him standing in the parking lot with his eyes darting all over the place.

“You think he’s connected to the mob in some way?”
“I doubt it. I mean they notoriously hate junkies and degenerates. But there’s something about him. It’s like he’s onto us,”
“I thought that too,” Anna agreed.


Then the waitress came back over.

“Refills?”
“Yes please,” Anna held out her mug.
“Say I heard you talking about old Squeaky out there,” she pointed to the crazy guy in leathers. “He givin’ you trouble?”
“He just scared us that’s all,” Anna’s voice was horse.
“Ah don’t worry about him. He’s a weird kid but everyone round here knows him. He’s just special, he don’t mean no harm,”
“Oh, I see,” Anna smiled timidly.
“He probably just likes you cos you’re pretty and he’s not seen you around here before. Are you on vacation?”
“Yeah kinda, just passin’ through,” Anna tried her best to make normal conversation.
“That’s nice. You two make a cute couple,” the waitress smiled but as she turned to leave there was an almighty screech of tires and the revving of an engine.


The crackling of the gravel was so loud and as the vehicle spun its tires at speed, small stones were thrown in the air and hit the diner windows like miniature gunshots. Carl stood up outraged and angry.

“That f*cker’s stolen my car!” he yelled.


And the small, battered Hyundai was soon disappearing into a speck on the horizon.


CHAPTER 12

The phone was answered on the third ring and Jerry spoke jovially.

“Hey pal? Callahan?”
“That’s me!” the parochial accent came thick.
“It’s Jerry,”
“I know that voice anywhere,” Callahan laughed. “What’s the matter?”
“Well… we’ve got a little situation over here,”
“Oh no…”
“Yuh like… we need ya to do us a favour,”
“Well I guess I ain’t got a choice have I?” Callahan joked.
“Ha you’re funny. But no. You do not have a choice,”


Callahan exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me straight Jerry. What I gotta do this time?”

“We’re looking for someone. An ex-Navy Seal on the run, a Carl Reiner. You gotta help us find him,”
“What am I supposed to do? Put out an APB?” Callahan was laughing but he felt like crying.
“Just do what you gotta do,” and Jerry hung up.
“Shit,” Callahan threw the phone on the desk. “Fuck!”


~

Carl and Anna raced to the parking lot but all was left of the car was the smoke that had drifted from the tires. The waitress was in hot pursuit in her heels and she seemed angrier than the both of them

“That son of a bitch! I’ll have to tell his mother about this,” she fumed. “I’m so sorry folks,” she turned to the couple. “Let’s call the police,”
“NO!” they both shouted in unison.
“I mean no thanks, we’ll do it ourselves,” Anna touched the waitress’ arm as a sign of good faith.